Getting Our Letters
by marauders.padfootsb
Summary: This is a series of four one-shots about how the Marauders received their letters to Hogwarts! T for language... my language... READ AND REVIEW!
1. Sirius Black

"Sirius, your letter is here."

Sirius Orion Black, a handsome boy even at the age of eleven, looked up from his food at the breakfast table. His mother, who was a rude woman he didn't particularly like, was holding out a manila-coloured envelope with green scrawling on the front.

_Sirius Black, 12 Grimmauld Place, Kitchen Table._

"Finally," Sirius muttered to himself, but his younger brother overheard.

"Finally what?"

"I can get out of here and go to Hogwarts," Sirius whispered. His mother walked out of the room, so he raised his voice a tad. "I can't take it anymore."

"Why not, brother?" Regulus asked, his chin quivering a bit.

"I don't know how I feel about these people anymore. I think they're getting into Dark stuff, and I don't think I want to be a Slytherin anymore."

"But all Blacks are Slytherins, silly."

"Not me," Sirius replied confidently. "Anything but, actually. Hopefully."

"Besides," the nine year old continued, as if he hadn't heard his older brother, "Slytherin is a wonderful House. Cissa and Belle are there, remember?"

"And they're a prime example of wonderful people," Sirius said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"And mudbloods are blood traitors are in the other Houses," Regulus told him, and Sirius's jaw dropped.

"_What? _Reg, it's wrong to think they are any lesser than us. They're people and witches and wizards, too." Clearly his parents had influenced the boy more than Sirius had initially thought.

Regulus frowned. "Their blood is dirty, Sirius! That's what Mum says, and I believe her."

Sirius just stood there, blanking staring at the wall, thinking that September 1st couldn't come soon enough.


	2. Remus Lupin

"Mum, what is this?" The young boy with graying sandy hair held in his hands a thick envelope, containing something he never thought he'd get. But there in broad daylight, it said _Remus J. Lupin, 143 Magnolia Avenue, Living Room Sofa. _

Mrs. Lupin walked over to her son, a werewolf. It broke her heart to see the scars all over his body. But thanks to Dumbledore and his kind soul, perhaps Remus would be able to live a normal life.

"Well dear, it appears to be a letter to Hogwarts."

"But," Remus started, looking up at his mother, "I can't go. They clearly must've missed my… situation."

Mrs. Lupin smiled softly and sat down next to her son. "Professor Dumbledore contacting me, saying it was a shame that such a bright, young man was going to miss out on such a schooling opportunity. He said he has a solution."

"What's the solution?" Remus asked, frowning slightly. They were probably going to send him a tutor, and he had no desire for that.

"You'll attend Hogwarts," Mrs. Lupin replied, wearing a smile that matched her son's. "They've got a building in Hogsmeade called the Shrieking Shack. Dumbledore put the necessary precautions on it, so you can transform there safely. He'll tell you more when you arrive, I'm sure."

"I get to go to Hogwarts!" Remus smiled, the biggest he had since the frightful night when Fenrir Greyback had bit him. "Does Dad know?"

"He does, dear. I was thinking we could go to Diagon Alley next week and get your supplies. How does that sound?"

"_Brill_," Remus replied, still in shock.

His mother left the room to prepare lunch, but Remus stayed put. He was going to be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He instantly got nervous at the thought. What House was he going to be sorted in? Was he going to have any friends? Were transformations going to be worse? Was schoolwork hard? What if he hurt someone?

"Remus, your sandwich is ready!" Mrs. Lupin called from the kitchen.

Trying to save his worries for later, Remus got up and genuinely smiled for the first time in a while


	3. Peter Pettigrew

_It's actually here. I'm not a Squib. Take _that _Grandma Pettigrew!_

"Mum, it's here!" Peter Pettigrew, a short and plump boy, called from his room where the Hogwarts owl had flown in through the window.

He read the words: _Peter Pettigrew, 201 Riverview Lane, Second Floor Bedroom._

"What's here, Pete?" his mother asked as she walked into her son's bedroom. The woman, in her late 40s, was rather fat like her son and husband.

"My Hogwarts letter came! Grandma was wrong; I'm not a Squib!"

"Of course you're not, Peter. She was just trying to frighten you…"

Peter flushed at this news. "But isn't it great?"

"Yes it is. Now hush, your grandmother and I were gossiping. Better yet, why don't you come downstairs and tell her the news?"

Peter reluctantly followed his mother down the stairs. Sitting at the bar was an abnormally skinny woman in pale pink robes.

"Look, Grandmother, I g-got my l-letter!"

"Did you really?" The woman took the letter from Peter as though to examine it to make sure he wasn't lying.

"Yes, I did. I suppose, Mum, if we're done here…" But as Peter turned to leave their presence, his grandmother stopped him.

"We need to talk."

"About what…?" Peter asks hesitantly.

"Your placement. Did you know every single Pettigrew has been in Gryffindor? Your mother and father, grandmother and grandfather, great grandparents… So on and so forth. Can _you_ get into Gryffindor, Peter?"

"I suppose so."

"You _suppose?_"

"I mean, of c-course!"

Peter left a smiling grandmother and an uninterested mother back in the kitchen. As he walked up to his room, he muttered to himself, "What have I gotten myself into?"


	4. James Potter

"Merlin, what's that? It's flying right towards me!" James Potter, a cute boy with unruly raven hair, fell off his broom and onto his family's private quidditch pitch, located in his backyard.

The object that had hit him was a grey owl that was holding a large envelope. James angrily took the letter.

"You get no food! You could've kill - " But James stopped mid sentence.

_James Potter, Potter Estate, Flying on a Broomstick._

James smiled widely. He knew this letter was going to come, but that didn't make the stress left off his shoulders any less. He sat there, giggling with excitement, already picturing himself being a Gryffindor chaser, scoring points left and right, a Captain badge on his chest.

James heard a door slam in the distance, and a woman with graying black hair ran outside. "Oh Jamesie, are you alright?"

"C'mere! This blasted bird brought news!"

"What's that?" Mrs. Potter asked, getting closer. Once she was beside her son, James handed her the letter.

"It came! We're so proud. You'll have a lovely time." She smiled brightly.

"I wish first years could bring brooms," James said.

"I'm sure you'll be too busy anyway with your studies," Mrs. Potter replied, helping James to his feet. They made their way back to the cobblestone mansion.

"Er - of course," James lied.

There was _no way _he was going to study


End file.
